Running Scared
by moonstones42
Summary: When Shannon Peterson's ex goes missing she's called into NCIS for questioning. When it's revealed that she's actually a member of the CIA and her ex is a known terrorist, she and McGee uncover a dark side to the CIA's inner workings. As they hunt to find the truth before it's too late and lives are lost, she and McGee grow closer as Shannon is forced to confront her painful past
1. Chapter 1

Shannon fumbled with her purse and did her best not to spill her coffee on her suit jacket as she dug around the cluttered bag for her vibrating cellphone.

"Here, let me hold that," the blonde man beside her offered helpfully. He reached for the hot drink just as it began to tilt precariously in her grip, and she gratefully released the cup into his custody.

"Thanks, Mark," she told him, flashing a smile up at him as she finally extracted her cell and lifted it to her ear. Shannon narrowly avoided colliding with a flustered looking man as she and Mark made their way down the busy street. The light drizzle of rain added quickness to every pedestrian's step, and the oppressive grey clouds overhead did nothing to improve the moods of the stressed businesspeople and politicians who crowded the sidewalks.

"Hello, Ms. Peterson. This is the Naval Criminal Investigative Service calling," a relatively polite voice informed her from the other end of the line.

"Um, hello," Shannon replied with a frown after a moment of confused hesitation. Mark raised an eyebrow in question but she ignored his expression as she tried to figure out why she'd been contacted by navy cops.

"Who is it?" Mark whispered insistently, but Shannon shooed him away with her free hand. Mark merely shrugged and took a swig of her coffee in response. Shannon made a face at him, sticking out her tongue and scrunching up her nose.

"Don't drink mine, you have your own!" she whispered laughingly with a swat at his arm, and the woman on the phone cleared her throat.

"Sorry, how can I help you?" Shannon asked, and she forcing the humor out of her voice as she switched to a more professional tone. She followed Mark up the steps of the Smithsonian Natural History Museum at a jog, having to double her pace to match his long strides.

"Our agents would like to speak with you as soon as possible. It would just be a quick interview," the woman replied. Shannon pushed away a tiny jolt of apprehension as she and Mark passed through the museum's atrium and boarded the employee elevator.

"Interview about what?" she asked warily. She balanced the phone on her shoulder as she swiped her ID to unlock the door to their offices.

"It's related to the recent kidnapping of Rashid al Din," the woman informed her, and Shannon jerked her phone away from her ear as if she'd been burned. She fought to calm her breathing and slow her heart rate as she stabbed her finger at the touch screen and ended the call.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Mark joked with a grin, but his chuckle faded into an awkward silence when Shannon didn't playfully roll her eyes in response. "Hey, are you ok?" Mark asked when Shannon remained motionless before the door with her hand frozen on the stainless steel knob. Mark's familiar, concerned voice jogged her out of her daze, and Shannon gave a little shiver before she turned back towards the elevator.

"Tell Jacob I'm sorry but I'll have to reschedule," Shannon called without bothering to look over her shoulder as she pressed the 'up' button on the elevator. She pulled out her phone and quickly began typing a new message to Lawrence Hawthorne as the doors slid open.

"But the archives might not be available for another two weeks," Mark called in a confused and worried tone as she stepped into the lift. She turned to see him standing at the other end of the hall, his hair slightly darkened by the sprinkling of water droplets flecked over its surface. He looked rather distressed standing there alone, wearing a suit that was one size too large and holding two cups of coffee. "You know how he gets," Mark called pleadingly.

"Tell him it's an emergency," Shannon told him after taking a deep breath, and Mark's large blue eyes immediately softened.

"Is there something I can do?" he asked. He took a step towards her, all fears of confronting the cranky old archivist apparently forgotten. Shannon only had time to decline his offer with a shake of her head before the elevator doors slid shut and she began her ascent above ground.


	2. Chapter 2

Shannon emerged from the elevator and stepped into the large open workspace of NCIS. She hesitated for a moment seeing as she hadn't the slightest clue where she was expected to go, but she made her way down the hall nonetheless. The man at the front desk had merely muttered "fourth floor" without looking up from his sports magazine when printing out her visitor pass, so Shannon supposed that technically he'd given her free reign of the entire area. She wandered about, watching as agents bustled from desk to desk carrying large stacks of manila folders. The longer she spent merely watching the warier she became about having to sit through an interview. She'd much prefer to aimlessly roam the halls than discuss the man who'd—

"Can I help you?" a polite male voice called from her left, and Shannon nearly jumped out of her skin at the noise. Thinking about Rashid always set her on edge, and having male voices assault her out of nowhere did nothing to settle her nerves.

It wasn't the man's fault, of course. She'd been so engaged in her own thoughts that she hadn't even noticed that she'd entered a small open area surrounded by desks. The man who'd spoken was seated at the desk directly in front of her, and his lips were spread into a smile as he looked up at her with a helpful expression.

"I'm looking for a Special Agent Gibbs," she told him with a hint of reluctance. Shannon really was not looking forward to her interview, and although she appreciated this man's help she'd much rather have been left to her wandering. Of course, if she was going to be approached by an NCIS agent, at least luck seemed to be on her side. The man had an honest, sincere smile, and she found herself stepping closer to him as he continued to look at her with those lovely green eyes.

"Oh, well he's a bit busy right now," the man said as he glanced over his shoulder at the large staircase across the room. "But he should be back in a few minutes," he added, and Shannon tried not to look too disappointed as it became clear that her interview would commence soon.

"Do you mind if I wait here?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"Not at all," he told her. "I'm Tim McGee, by the way," he added, and she gave a friendly nod.

"Shannon Peterson," she said, and she felt her cheeks warm slightly when he smiled at her again.

"Oh, boss, this is Shannon Peterson," McGee said as a silver-haired man swept into the area, and his smile fell away as he regarded the man she presumed was agent Gibbs.

"Great," the man said without even glancing in her direction. He rummaged around his cluttered desk with one hand and tightly gripped a coffee cup in the other. "Where are DiNozzo and Ziva?" he asked in an exasperated tone, and McGee gave a little shrug.

"Not back from searching the apartment yet," he said just as Gibbs produced a pair of glasses from beneath the scattered papers with a triumphant huff. Shannon glanced from one man to the other.

"Apartment? Is this related to Rash's disappearance?" she asked with a frown. Gibbs ignored her completely.

"Alright, well take her to one of the conference rooms. I'll send Tony once they get back," he instructed, and McGee nodded dutifully.

"This way," McGee told her, and he stepped aside to let Shannon pass as he gestured towards a hallway. She momentarily considered questioning Gibbs again, but she quickly decided against it. The man didn't seem to be very big on verbal communication.

"I've just got a few questions," McGee told her as he lowered himself into one of the leather chairs surrounding the table and opened a thin manila folder. Shannon's eyes followed his movements as he pulled a pen and small pad of paper from his pocket, and he glanced up with a slight frown when he caught her watching him. Shannon smiled at him. It had been quite some time since she'd been in this sort of situation, but she hoped she could manage to tap into the skills she'd learned years ago to help her figure out exactly why she was being interviewed.

"Before you start asking questions, could you please just explain what's going on?" she asked in a gentle tone once she was seated across from him. She tilted her head ever so slightly to the side and gave her lashes an almost undetectable flutter. McGee swallowed and cleared his throat before answering.

"Your boyfriend has—"

"Ex-boyfriend," Shannon corrected automatically, and she flinched internally as her voice shifted back to its normal timbre. McGee's frown deepened. "I haven't seen him in seven months," she clarified. She'd given up on trying to coerce information out of him as it was now clear that anything he told her would probably be based on an inaccurate or outdated source. If McGee thought she and Rashid were still together, NCIS definitely needed to find a new contact.

"So does that mean you have no clue what he's been up to lately?" he asked, and Shannon shook her head. McGee. He furrowed his brow and glance down at his papers in a way that sent a smile tugging at her lips, and Shannon found herself wishing she could help him in some way. But Shannon was just as lost as he was, and she knew none of the information she could give on Rashid would be helpful in finding him.

"What about enemies, people who might have wanted him dead?" McGee asked, and Shannon bolted upright in her seat.

"Dead? I thought he'd been kidnapped," she cried, and her nails scraped the soft armrests of the chair as her fingers dug into the material. McGee's eyes widened at her reaction and he hastily attempted to calm her down.

"He was! I didn't mean…just did he have any enemies?" McGee asked in his kindest tones, his eyes gentle and sincere, and there was something about his gaze that immediately set her at ease. The longer she looked at him the harder it was for her to think of a suitable answer to his question, and eventually she looked away.

"Rash was very…well, passionate would be the best word I suppose. He wasn't exactly a loose cannon, but he always felt very strongly about every issue, even if it wasn't that big of a deal, and that made him kind of hard to get along with. There were plenty of people who found him annoying or frustrating, but I never met anyone who I'd say hated him," Shannon said, and McGee nodded as he scribbled down her words.

"But you do know that we were only together during my dig in Jordan, right?" she asked, wanting to make sure he and the other NCIS agents didn't get the wrong idea—she wanted to make sure they knew that she didn't have any useful information for them. "So if he was taken from whatever apartment you and Agent Gibbs were talking about earlier, it probably wasn't by anyone I met when I knew him," she clarified, and McGee ran a hand over his face with a sigh.

"I didn't even know he was in the country until just now," Shannon added with a little shrug, and he stared at her incredulously.

"God, and Tony called this a lead?" she heard him murmur to himself, and she felt a pang of sympathy towards him.

"Look, maybe I could be more helpful if you at least told me what's happened," she suggested, and she let out a quiet huff when McGee cast her a wary glance. She'd hoped he wouldn't see the self-interested aspect of her offer, but now that he had Shannon wasn't sure whether to be aroused by his intelligence or annoyed by the inconvenience of it. She settled for an odd frustration somewhere in between.

Shannon gave a start and looked over McGee's shoulder as the door to the conference room opened to reveal a man in a tailored suit grinning like a fool in the doorway.

"Why hello there," he said as he sauntered into the room. The man came to stand beside McGee with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes shamelessly scanned Shannon's form. She shot him a glare when his gazed lingered for a little too long on the bust of her light blue blouse, and his brow furrowed slightly but he continued to grin at her. He was harmless, she realized, and although his gaze was a little too forward she couldn't help but think of him as an overly rambunctious puppy in a tailored suit.

"This is special agent Tony DiNozzo," McGee said begrudgingly, and Shannon smiled at the thought of a man who was clearly still a twelve year old boy inside being a successful NCIS agent.

"And now the real interview can begin," Tony declared. He then moved as if he intended to boot McGee out of his chair.

"What are you doing?" McGee cried as the other man began to push at his torso, and Shannon bit back a surprised a laugh. There was something about these two that was strangely entertaining, and she found her mood improving every second she spent watching them interact. "It's time for you to go, McAmeature, and leave the real work to the professionals," Tony grunted, and McGee frowned down at him.

"Tony, the interview's over," he told him, and Tony froze mid-shove.

"What do you mean?" he asked, and he gazed forlornly at Shannon like a child who'd just been told Christmas was canceled.

"I mean your lead wasn't a lead at all; we're done here," McGee said as he closed his notebook and returned the cap to his pen, and Shannon felt a pang of disappointment. She was still just as ignorant about what was going on here as she'd been that morning! She had no idea why she'd been NCIS's first contact, where Rashid was, what had happened to him, or how close they were to finding him. Plus, an end to the interview meant an end to her time spent with the oddly alluring Tim McGee.

"But come on McGee," Tony pleaded as the taller man rose from his chair, and Shannon found herself silently pleading right along with him. "I mean just look at her," she heard Tony whisper, and McGee merely rolled his eyes in response. "She's a strawberry-blonde, Tim! You don't come across those all that often—how could you pass up an opportunity like this?" he whined in a whisper. McGee pushed him aside to look at Shannon.

"I'm sorry this has been such a waste of your time," he told her sincerely, but Shannon crossed her arms resolutely over her chest. There was no way she was leaving without knowing why she'd been brought here in the first place. And she'd seen that hint of pink that had flushed McGee's cheeks at Tony's words. She wasn't going to give up that easily.

"I'm still waiting for you to tell me what happened to Rash," she said expectantly, and the two men shared a glance. "What? Do you not think you'll be able to find him?" Tony looked out the window while McGee's gaze fell to his shoes. "Look, whatever it is, just tell me. I can handle it. I just hate not knowing," she told them.

McGee cast her a pitying look, and his gaze seemed to say 'stop asking'. Shannon's stomach twisted uncomfortably; what could be so terrible that these two agents couldn't bring themselves to tell her? Had the kidnappers tortured Rashid to the point of death? Was there no hope of saving him?

"Please, I need to know," she pleaded, and Tony's eyes flew to her face. The playful jokester act was gone, and all Shannon could see in warm brown gaze was understanding. If he felt the need to be honest with her, to drop his guise, then whatever it was that these agents were keeping hidden was undoubtedly serious.

"You're boyfriend's a terrorist," Tony said gravely, and the whole room suddenly tilted on its side. Shannon's heart hammered in her chest and she couldn't breathe and nothing made sense to her because a terrorist? That was ridiculous. That made no sense. No. _No_.

"He's been on the watch list for about six years now, and he was confirmed to be a definite danger to the country three years ago," Tony continued. But his words were distant and muffled gibberish to Shannon as she stared blankly at her distorted reflection in the table. Everything he said was wrong. Someone had lied to NCIS and all their information was completely inaccurate. That was the only explanation.

"Tony," she thought she heard McGee growl, and annoyance was clear in his voice as he tried to keep his partner in check.

"He can't be a terrorist," Shannon whispered to herself. She then looked up at the two men and repeated the words, determined to make sure they understood her certainty of this fact. "There's absolutely no way."

"I know it's a lot to take in, but it's true," Tony said, and he took McGee's seat before reaching across the table for her hand. Shannon snatched her hand away from his, and McGee shot Tony a reprimanding look.

"But it isn't," she insisted, and she knew her tone bordered on hysterical but she didn't care—all she cared about was making these men see how wrong they were. They had to see that they were wrong. They had to.

Tony's brow furrowed slightly at her words. "Why are you so sure?" he asked, and she glared at him.

"Why are you?" she questioned, suddenly on the defensive, and McGee stepped forward.

"Tony, we really shouldn't be talking about this," he said in a warning tone, but DiNozzo dismissed his comment with a roll of his eyes.

"Look, I'm sure you and this dirt bag shared a very special time together, but he's dangerous and needs to be found. So do you know where he is or not?" Tony asked seriously, and Shannon blinked at him.

"Well no, but—"

"Then you're free to go," he said curtly as he rose from the chair, and Shannon was left to gape after him as he vacated the conference room. Anger and annoyance churned inside of her, and Shannon had every intention to follow Tony out of the room and give him a piece of her mind. But McGee caught her eye then, and his gaze instantly soothed her nerves in a way that was simultaneously calming and unsettling. How could he possibly set her at ease with just one look?

"Give us a call if you think of anything that might be helpful in finding Mr. al Din," McGee said as he slid a standard NCIS business card on across the table to her. He hesitated for a moment, as if he'd been distracted by something he'd seen in her expression, before he exited the room as well.

Shannon remained sitting at the large conference table for some time as she tried to process this new information and decide exactly what she should do with the knowledge she'd gained. Finally, after about fifteen minutes of deliberation, she decided to ignore McGee's card. She stalked from the NCIS headquarters and dialed Hawthorne's cell number once more as she headed back to the Smithsonian.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short, but I couldn't combine it with the next one without making it too long...so enjoy this mini chapter! I promise to add the next one tomorrow though so you won't have to wait too long :)**

* * *

"So, where do you want to go for lunch?"

Shannon looked up from the coffee-stained parchment decorated with spidery script at the sound of Mike's voice, and she put down her pen with a warm smile. She'd spent the past hour and a half studying the notes of one of her office's less tidy employees, and Mike's jovial mood was a welcome distraction after she'd spent so long struggling to decipher handwriting that was nearly a foreign language. "I was thinking Italian, but Lisa from the medieval department told me about this incredible Thai place she said you'd love," he said as he leaned casually against the doorway with his hands in his pockets. Shannon leaned back in her chair, and her back gave a satisfying pop as she stretched her hands high over her head.

"What if I told you I had far too much work to go out for lunch today?" she asked with a yawn, and Mark grinned at the familiar prompt.

"Then I would tell you that those old bones aren't in any rush to be analyzed and won't mind waiting another hour while you broaden your culinary horizons," he shrugged. She laughed and held out her arms expectantly as he came forward to pull her out of her seat by her hands. She slipped her feet back into her shoes beneath her desk before she grabbed her jacket and purse.

"So Thai food it is, then," Mike said cheerfully as they exited the Museum's main doors and made their way down the steps. "Granted you've actually been to Thailand so you might not find it quite as impressive as Lisa promised it would be," Mike told her. But the amused smile that seemed to grace Shannon's features whenever she was in Mike's presence had disappeared. Shannon no longer registered his words as she stared down the street to where agents McGee and DiNozzo leaned against a black Sedan.

"Ms. Peterson," McGee called, and she came to a halt with a sigh he jogged towards her with Tony bringing up the rear.

"Do you know them?" Mike asked with a frown as he glanced from Shannon to the agents and then back again. Shannon didn't bother answering as McGee came to a halt before her.

"We need you to need you to come with us," he said seriously, and Mike's eyes widened.

"Shannon, what's going on?" Mike asked in a voice filled with confusion, fear, and concern.

"It's nothing, Mike," Shannon assured him as convincingly as she could, but she knew her own anxiety was clear in her voice. She'd never been able to tell a convincing lie to Mike—it had just always seemed so wrong to deceive someone so kind and innocent. Even now, when lying successfully would have put herself as well as Mike at ease, Shannon couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Oh it's most definitely more than nothing, Mike," DiNozzo said with a grin, and Shannon shot him a glare. She most definitely didn't like the sound of that. If NCIS had resorted to sending agents after her rather than merely requesting her for another interview, they'd come across new information that didn't paint Shannon in the best light. Information she'd gone through great pains to keep hidden and didn't much like the idea of having exposed.

"Can we just leave already?" she asked in annoyance, eager to get the agents away from Mike before they planted any more ideas of suspicion in his head. The last thing she needed was for the one man in her life who consistently made her smile to discover what she was sure these agents knew by now.

"Don't worry, Mike," Shannon called over her shoulder as she followed the two agents back to their car. "It's nothing, really," she added with a weak smile in his direction.

"Maybe little Mikey shouldn't worry," DiNozzo said as he pulled open the car door and motioned for her to climb inside, "but you probably should."


	4. Chapter 4

"So at what point were you planning on telling us that you work for the CIA?"

Shannon was seated in a rather uncomfortable plastic chair in one of NCIS's interrogation rooms. She held her hands folded calmly in her lap as she stared across the metal table at agent Gibbs. This is what she'd been dreading –the real interrogation, the one where the agents actually knew what information they really wanted out of her. But Shannon had never been one to accept defeat, and she saw no need to give in despite the fact that the odds were no longer so greatly in her favor.

"I wasn't planning on it at all, actually," she told him, and his light blue eyes narrowed.

"This isn't a joke; this is national security we're talking about here," he said tensely, and she let out an incredulous laugh.

"Yes, I know! That's the problem, agent Gibbs," she told him, but he ignored her words and merely continued to lecture her. Typical government agent: he was more interested in finding the truth he wanted to hear than discovering what was really going on.

"I'm sure you've been sworn to secrecy or whatever, but the safety of our country trumps any oath you've made. We can try you for obstruction of justice, you know; just because you lied for the CIA doesn't mean—"

"I didn't lie," she dead-panned, and Gibbs slammed his palm flat on the table. Shannon didn't flinch.

"You withheld information; you endangered millions of lives by not telling us you were investigating a terrorist as part of an undercover CIA operation," he shouted, and Shannon let out a huff of frustration.

"Because I didn't know," she ground out, and Gibbs's eyes narrowed even further. Shannon gave a start as the door burst open, and she and Gibbs both turned to see McGee hurry through the doorway.

"Boss, she didn't know al Din was a terrorist," McGee said breathlessly, and Shannon threw up her hands in exasperation.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you; you were just too busy accusing me of treason to listen," she grumbled, but Gibbs and McGee both ignored her as the lanky agent held out a file stamped "Classified" to the older man.

"It's all in there, Boss. Her mission was to stop the sale of artifacts on the black market in Jordan, and al Din was listed as one of the people under surveillance. The CIA was reluctant to give up a copy of the file they gave her for the mission; I had to get the sec nav to get me clearance. Some of the places and names have been blacked out, but it never mentions anything about terrorism," McGee said, and his gaze occasionally flickered over to Shannon as he spoke.

"So why wasn't it mentioned in the file?" Gibbs asked no one in particular, and Shannon took his ambiguity as an opportunity to speak up. She supposed she and these agents were all out to find the same answers, so why not work together to find them? She knew there was no way she could figure out exactly what was going on here all on her own, and without her these agents would continue to head in the wrong direction.

"Lawrence Hawthorne orchestrated the operation and was the one who gave me the assignment. I've tried to contact him and get some sort of explanation for this mess, but he won't return my phone calls or emails," she told them.

"He's hiding something," McGee stated definitively, and Gibbs closed the file and tossed it on the table.

"McGee, escort Ms. Peterson to CIA headquarters and find out what's going on; we need to get that terrorist back into custody as soon as possible."

McGee's eyes widened slightly at Gibb's command, but after a moment of hesitation he nodded. "I'll get right on it, boss," he mumbled before he motioned for Shannon to follow him out of the room.

"Thanks for helping me out back there," Shannon said sincerely as they made their way down the hallway towards the elevator. She really didn't want to think about how things might've gone if McGee hadn't burst in with evidence Gibbs couldn't ignore. "But how'd you find the file?" she wondered aloud as the doors slid open and they stepped inside.

"Tony thought there was something weird about how positive you were that al Din wasn't a terrorist, so he dug a little deeper into your background. But even when he figured out you were CIA I still thought there was more to the story," he told her as they entered the elevator and made their ascent, and she nodded.

"Well I'm glad you did," Shannon said with a smile a few minutes later as they approached one of the many standard Government Issue cars in the parking lot. McGee smiled back at her, and her stomach gave an odd little flutter that made her feel slightly light headed. It was strange, how easily he affected her with no more than a simple spread of his lips, and Shannon couldn't believe how much she'd missed this feeling—how much she'd missed the excitement and the rush of infatuation.

"So how exactly does someone with a degree in Biblical Sociology—which I've never even heard of, by the way— from Oxford University, two published books, and a long line of monumental discoveries under their belt end up working for the CIA?" McGee asked with a glance in her direction after a few minutes of driving in silence.

"Wow, you really did your homework," Shannon laughed, honestly surprised by his abridged biography of her career. She looked over to see McGee grinning in her direction, his green eyes bright with mirth and curiosity.

"NCIS is known for our thorough background checks," he joked, then paused with a slight grimace. "Ok, maybe we don't get it all on the first try, but we always find the important things eventually," he corrected, and she laughed again.

"Don't worry, the CIA's pride and joy is providing its agents with air-tight covers; the fact that you found mine at all is still a testament to your detective skills," she told him, and he nodded in thanks.

"But my question is still in need of an answer," he reminded her, his lips spread into a grin, and Shannon pushed away the fluttering in her stomach as she tried to think of the best way to explain her situation; she'd never talked about her situation with anyone outside of the agency before.

* * *

**A/N: Ooo mini cliff hanger! Ok not really :) I have finals this week so I probably won't update until this weekend, but the next chapter will definitely be up some time in the beginning of June!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Finally the next chapter! Sorry for such a long wait; apparently this year my summer's going to be busier than the school year so updates might only be once a week or so since I want to make sure everything makes sense plot wise. But don't worry- the story will go on!**

"Well it definitely was never my dream to be a CIA agent," Shannon clarified, stalling for time as she tried to figure out exactly what she could and couldn't tell McGee. "And I guess technically, I'm really not an agent; at least not like the ones I'm sure you dealt with before," she said, and McGee frowned over at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, and she bit down on her bottom lip in hesitation. There were of course rules and regulations about this sort of thing, and she knew she'd probably breeched protocol already. But Shannon felt as if she could really trust McGee, despite the fact that she hardly knew him. It was those eyes, she knew—they were so kind, so honest, that she felt no qualms about confiding in him. Plus, how could she expect McGee to help her figure out what was going on if she kept him in the dark?

"I guess you could say I'm sort of like a 'consulting agent', if that makes any sense. I spend most of my time working at the museum and doing lab work, but whenever I want to go overseas I have to alert the CIA first—"

"So they can give you an assignment if they need something done in that area," McGee interrupted, and she nodded with a pleased smile. He really was quite intelligent, she realized, and this fact only made him more attractive in her opinion. It took her a moment to get her mind back on track and remember exactly what it was they'd been talking about.

"Sometimes they come up with the assignment first and I just have to drop everything to comply with their orders, but usually they just wait until something comes up so it doesn't look even the least bit suspicious. So I just do what they want whenever they need me, but otherwise I just live my life like a normal person."

"That's…wow. I knew the CIA was sneaky, but putting their agents in civilian jobs just so they can have one definite, air-tight cover? That seems like a little much, even for them," McGee said with a shake of his head, and Shannon sat up straighter in her seat.

"Oh, no, it's the other way around; I'd already been working on digs in Syria for 2 years before the CIA contacted me," she said as they came to a halt at a stoplight, and McGee turned in his chair to look at her.

"You mean you already had your dream career but you decided to work for them anyway? That's impressive; I don't think I could do that," he said, and Shannon looked down at her hands folded in her lap.

"I didn't exactly volunteer for the job," she said, and she hoped her cheeks didn't flush too pink as McGee leaned closer.

"You've certainly got the whole 'speaking cryptically' thing down," he told her, and she smiled.

"Sorry. I just mean that I hated the idea of being in the CIA. I didn't want to lie to the people I love or even to complete strangers. I didn't want to have to live in constant fear that someone might kill me—or worse, that I'd have to kill someone." Shannon looked up at him, and she took a deep breath as she willed her stinging eyes not to water with tears. Any CIA agent would tell her it was ridiculous for her to have such an emotional response when talking about how much she hated the job—they'd tell her to suck it up, to stop being such a child and do what she had to do. But McGee's expression was so kind and sincere that she felt she could tell him anything and he'd never judge her, never call her weak or think any less of her.

"I couldn't kill someone, Tim," she whispered, and McGee reached down to gently cover her hand with his. Shannon nearly shrieked when sudden wail of a car horn blared from behind them, the street light having changed to green during their conversation. McGee snatched his hand back and quickly turned back around in his seat to cross the intersection.

"So, uhm, why did you do it then? What made you finally join the agency?" McGee asked after clearing his throat a few minutes later. Shannon had been staring out of the window, willing the blush in her cheeks to fade as quickly as possible, and she was glad for a break in the rather awkward silence. She fingered the small locket she wore around her neck for a moment before answering his question.

"Well, when your father and his entire side of the family live in Palestine, your grandmother runs an Islamic community center here in Virginia, and your first language is Arabic, you learn from a very young age to never say 'no' to the United States government," she said, and she turned to see McGee staring at her. They'd finally arrived at the CIA's main building, and the car was silent now that he'd removed the keys from the ignition.

"The officer who 'recruited' me basically told me that if I refused to join, it pretty much confirmed that I was a terrorist. Work for the agency or 'disappear' and spend the rest of my life god knows where in some hell hole; not really much of a choice, I'd say," she added, and he gaped at her.

"That's got to be the darkest explanation for becoming a government agent I've ever heard," McGee said in an exasperated tone, and she merely shrugged with a sad smile.

"We live in dark times, Tim," Shannon said as they stepped out of the car. She looked up at the north side of the large white building, where her eyes quickly found the seventh floor corner office. "Dark times indeed."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Next chapter: on to CIA headquarters, where Shannon and McGee might finally get some answers...or just end up with more questions than before.**

**If you've ever watched NCIS then you know it's probably the second one :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: So, to make up for my embarrassingly long absence, I offer you all this super long chapter as a plea for forgiveness! It's chock full of Shannon/McGee emotions, although most of it's anger and frustration...but not at each other of course! Oh just read the chapter before I give anything else away! The long alluded to Hawthorne awaits!**

* * *

Shannon led McGee up a wide flight of steps, and the feeling of apprehension within her grew with every step they took. With each minute they grew ever closer to putting an end to the uncertainty that had plagued her for the past few days, but at what cost? Secrets were being kept, from her and from the agents at NCIS, and Shannon couldn't deny the twinge of fear she felt when she considered what kind of monsters they might find behind closed doors. She was probably overreacting, of course, but she'd learned to trust her instincts—and her instincts were screaming 'run'.

Shannon took a deep breath and tried her best to calm down as she and McGee stepped through the large glass doors to headquarters' main entrance. She had to stay focused and do her best to put together what was going on without losing her head or endangering anyone involved; just because Rashid wasn't a terrorist didn't mean someone else involved in this mess couldn't be.

"Identification, please," the security guard standing beside a bay of metal detectors said, and Shannon flashed her badge with a smile. The guard paused only a momentarily as he glanced at McGee's badge, and he then allowed both of them into the long hallway of elevators. They waited for only a few moments before a pair of stainless steel metal doors soundlessly opened a few feet down the hall, and Shannon and McGee both stepped inside.

"Fifth floor," she said clearly once the doors slid shut, and a few moments later the elevator began to ascend. McGee let out a hum of surprise, and Shannon turned to see his eyes scanning the mirrored metal box around them.

"I knew the CIA was high tech, but this is far more than I expected; I mean do the elevators really need to be voice operated?" he asked incredulously, and Shannon smiled.

"Of course; operatives of the most prestigious government agency can't be expected to use buttons! Honestly, Tim, what kind of backwards world do you think we live in?" she asked, and she knew that no matter how hard she fought to stay focused, there was no way she could ignore the giddy feeling his genuine laugh filled her with.

However, the light fuzzy feeling was quickly overpowered by nervousness when the doors slid open to reveal a serious looking woman seated behind a large white desk.

"Hello," Shannon said as she and McGee approached, and the woman coolly regarded her with steely grey eyes. When the receptionist only continued to stare at Shannon without responding, Shannon cast an inquisitive look in McGee's direction. McGee merely shrugged, and she turned back to the woman with a polite smile.

"We're here to see Agent Lawrence Hawthorne," she said, and the woman's blank expression didn't change.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked in an exceptionally sharp voice, and when Shannon replied that she did not the woman shook her head disdainfully. She let out a sigh when Shannon showed no sign of leaving. "I suppose I could check and see if he's available," the woman said begrudgingly.

"Yes, that would be lovely," Shannon said with a forced smile. Her patience continued to wane as the woman took her time lifting the receiver of the stark white phone beside her keyboard.

"He says he will see you," the woman said once she hung up the phone, and Shannon offered her an exasperated thank you. Shannon rolled her eyes at McGee as if to say 'can you believe her?' as they headed down the hall, and he did his best to hide his laugh with a cough.

"Before we go in, I have to warn you that Lawrence Hawthorne is the biggest prick you will ever meet," Shannon said seriously as she turned to McGee. He looked surprised and a little doubtful, but Shannon felt that she could at least proceed without feeling guilty about Hawthorne's behavior now that she'd given him a heads up.

"Ah, Shannon! It's been too long," a loud voice called as they entered the large corner office. Hawthorne rose from his large leather armchair with his arms spread wide, and she noted that the sleeves of his expensive shirt were rolled back to his elbows to give him an 'approachable' look. Shannon forced herself to smile agreeably as she stepped forward to shake the hand of a man she'd thankfully only met twice before, despite his overly friendly welcome.

"And who might this dashing young man be?" Hawthorne asked, and McGee's brow furrowed momentarily before he realized Hawthorne was addressing him.

"Agent Tim McGee, sir—NCIS," he said, and Hawthorne let out a pleased shout.

"A navy boy!" Hawthorne boomed, and McGee smiled with a nod. Hawthorne's boisterous personality was clearly making him a little uncomfortable, and Shannon hoped they could get this meeting over with as quickly as possible—for McGee's sake as well as her own.

"Well go on, sit down and tell me why I have the pleasure of your company today," Hawthorne said as he returned to his seat, and Shannon and McGee lowered themselves into the two chairs before his desk. McGee glanced at Shannon and she nodded at him to let him know it was alright for him to take the lead.

"Well, sir, there's quite a bit of confusion going on, and we were hoping you could help us clear a few things up," McGee said, and Hawthorne gestured for him to continue. McGee shifted in his seat, and he leaned forward in earnest. "It all started when we began searching for Rashid Al Din, the lead suspect in the stabbing of a gunny sergeant last week."

Shannon watched closely for any change in Hawthorne's expression at the mention of Rashid, but he remained nonplused. This did not, of course, in any wary confirm his innocence; Hawthorne was a high-ranking CIA agent and thus would have of perfected his poker face long ago.

"We found his apartment empty, but there were signs of a struggle that suggested he'd been taken by force. But while Agent Peterson is convinced he is merely an arms dealer, due to information provided by you, we have other sources that confirm him as a known terrorist."

Shannon expected Hawthorne to shout 'terrorist! You've got to be joking', or some other phrase that would properly reflect his personality. Instead, he merely uttered, "Ah. I see."

"Well are you at least going to explain?" Shannon questioned harshly. She was no longer able to contain her annoyance at having to traverse across the state to find the truth when it should've been presented to her from the start. What was he hiding and why? Hawthorne paused for a moment before speaking.

"He is a terrorist, if that's what you're wondering about," Hawthorne said, and Shannon clenched her fists as she tried her best to contain her rage.

"And you didn't feel the need to tell me this before you sent me to live with him for six months?" she growled, and Hawthorne shrugged.

"Dear, you have to understand that it was need to know information—and you didn't need to know," he said simply, and the only thing that kept Shannon from leaping from her seat and across Hawthorn's desk was the calming presence of McGee's hand on her arm.

"Are you meaning to say you sent an agent into the field without properly briefing her first? That you allowed her to live with terrorists for months without alerting her of how dangerous the situation was?" McGee asked incredulously, and when Hawthorne merely shrugged McGee's green eyes hardened.

"I just figured she'd be much better under cover if she didn't know she was living with a terrorist; it's always easier to face danger when you don't know it's there," Hawthorne reasoned, and Shannon felt McGee's grip on her arm tighten as his eyes narrowed.

"Did it not occur to you that perhaps terrorists would respond differently from arms dealers if her cover was blown?" he growled. His voice was dangerously low, and it possessed all the rage Shannon could feel churning within her.

"She would've been dead either way. And look at her, she's fine! No harm done," Hawthorne laughed, and Shannon ground her teeth, thankful for McGee's presence; Hawthorne would surely have had a few broken bones if it wasn't for him.

And what right did Hawthorne have to say there was 'no harm done?' He hadn't been there in Jordan—he hadn't suffered through the things she had. The furious shouting in her face, the cuts that were always reopened before they could heal, the rainbow of bruises that had decorated her skin, the way she'd been forced to always forgive, to always come crawling back. Hawthorne hadn't been there for any of it.

"There are worse fates than death," she heard McGee growl, and she was jerked from her contemplation of those terrible memories she thought she'd managed to erase. She did her best to push aside the memories as McGee continued to tear Hawthorne apart.

"They could've done anything to her—anything," McGee shouted, and Hawthorne looked slightly alarmed. McGee had risen from his chair during his fiery speech, and it took Shannon a moment to realize that he now tightly gripped her hand. "And she wouldn't have been prepared for torture—she wasn't even offered the chance to turn down the assignment! Do you know why? Because you're a lying, deceitful bastard who'd throw away the lives of his agents without a second thought!"

Shannon's anger was just as fierce as McGee's, if not more so, but she hadn't expected him to be the one to react so strongly to Hawthorne's words; she never would have predicted that she would be the calmer one in this situation. She quickly rose to her seat and took a hold of McGee's arm with her free hand before things went any farther.

"I think it's best that you leave now," Hawthorne said as he crossed his arms over his chest, and Shannon nodded as she pulled McGee backwards towards the door.

"I couldn't agree more," she told him, and she did her best to keep her voice calm.

Shannon didn't release her hold on McGee until they were in the hallway with the door to Hawthorne's office safely sealed behind them. McGee muttered furiously to himself as he paced back and forth and his arms waved through the air as he gestured with his hands.

"We need to pool as much information on these terrorists as we can," he said with a sudden turn towards Shannon, and when his gaze met hers she was pleased to see his eyes had lost their slightly crazed look.

"Alright," she said, slightly startled by his sudden demand but compliant nonetheless. Shannon was determined to find out exactly who she'd spent six months in Jordan with, and she hoped that finding more information would help NCIS locate Rashid and finally bring him to justice.

"You can get Agent Gibbs and the others at NCIS to start investigating from there, and we can see what's on file here at headquarters," she offered, and he nodded as he pulled out his phone.

"Look, Shannon, I'm sorry about what happened in there," he said after a pause, and he looked more than a little embarrassed as he glanced up at her. "I just couldn't believe that he'd done that to you and didn't even seem to see a problem with it," he said, and she hoped he wouldn't notice the way his obvious protectiveness brought a heat to her cheeks.

"You don't have to apologize, Tim," she said with a smile, and his lips quirked upwards in return. "But if you really want to make it up to me," she added, and she felt a smile spread across her face as he suddenly became more alert, "you can help me get to the bottom of this and figure out what the hell is going on here."

"You don't have to worry, I'm in this for the long haul," he assured her, his eyes holding her gaze, and Shannon found herself hoping he wasn't merely referring to the investigation.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So, after all this time, I've FINALLY written the next chapter! And instead of babbling on about how sorry I am, I'm just going to give you guys what you've spent the past 4 months waiting for!**

"Hey Tony, we've made a break in the case…yeah, I know you're second-in command…I get that you feel entitled to being clued in as soon as possible, but it's not something I can say over the phone."

Shannon leaned against the wall as she patiently waited for McGee to finish his phone call with his colleague. She scrolled through her email and quickly scanned various memos as she tried to craft the most plausible reason for her absence from work.

"…no, I just don't want to be investigated because of your recklessness again! …That was definitely your fault!...No, that time it was your idea; you told me they'd never notice if we—" McGee stopped mid-sentence when he caught sight of the amused look on Shannon's face; her emails were completely forgotten as she listened to his entertaining one-sided conversation.

"Look, I don't have time for this. We're going to do some more research here, but we'll catch you guys up when we get back to NCIS…no, Tony. No, there's absolutely no way I'm repeating that. I'm not going to tell her— Goodbye, Tony," he finished abruptly. Shannon noted that McGee's cheeks were now slightly red and he looked rather flustered.

She knew it was totally out of the question for her to ask what exactly Tony had said to provoke such a reaction, but she found it hard to ignore her intense curiosity as he pocketed his phone and avoided her gaze.

"I guess we could start off by looking at the case files—finding out who else was involved and what they did to put the mission together," Shannon offered. She made a point of not referencing how his phone conversation had ended in an attempt to alleviate some of his clear discomfort.

"Sounds good to me," McGee said with a relieved smile, and they headed back towards the elevators. "Where should we start?" he asked as they passed by the tight lipped receptionist, and Shannon hesitated before answering him. The woman gave them a dark look as they waited for the elevator to arrive, and Shannon shifted her weight in discomfort. She tried not to look too uneasy as she and McGee entered the elevator the moment the metal doors slid open.

"That woman is incredibly creepy," McGee muttered, and Shannon nodded in agreement with a small shudder.

"The basement," she told the elevator a moment later, before she turned her attention back to McGee. "We probably shouldn't discus what we're doing when we're around Hawthorne's people—or anyone else here, really—until we find out exactly what's going on. And the Archive in the building's basement is the best place for us to start digging up information," she explained, and McGee nodded.

Upon reaching the basement, Shannon led McGee down a brightly lit corridor lined with tightly sealed metal doors on each end. She stopped before the door labeled "OCSA", and she noticed McGee's wrinkled brow as he scrutinized the completely smooth metal surface.

"No door handles either?" he asked, and she gave a little shrug as she pulled out her badge to swipe it through a skillfully concealed key-reader on the adjacent wall. She herd McGee let out a grunt of surprise as a small section of the wall then slid away to reveal a rental scanner.

"They're a little security-conscious here in the CIA archives," she teased with a smile before she leaned forward and placed her chin on the small chin rest. A beam of light passed before her eye, and she stepped back as the door gave a click and slid open.

McGee followed Shannon into a room packed floor-to-ceiling with file cabinets, each of them labeled with a date. Shannon led him over to one of the many wheeled ladders neatly stored in the corner of the room, and she and McGee both pulled it over to the cabinet labeled "2011".

"So, the CIA seems pretty organized," McGee commented as he held the ladder steady while Shannon climbed up the metal steps, and she looked down just as he looked up at her.

"Eyes forward, soldier," she quipped, and McGee blushed as he quickly averted his gaze. She hadn't planned on scaling any ladders when she'd chosen to wear a skirt that morning, but she was now glad she had; she wasn't sure if it was wrong that she found embarrassing McGee so enjoyable, but she decided she didn't care—he just looked so adorable whenever he was flustered.

"But they do pride themselves in having everything in its place, as it should be, at all times," Shannon said in response to his comment as she pulled open the drawer labeled "June" and fingered through the folders. She let out a satisfied huff when her eyes caught sight of the "OCSA-22145" printed on one of the manila folders, and she triumphantly pulled it free. "Got it," she called down to McGee as she shoved the cabinet closed, and he glanced up at her before quickly looking away again. Shannon allowed herself a small smile, but she made sure her expression was 'professional' once more when she hopped down from the ladder and handed McGee the file.

He flipped it open and immediately let out a frustrated huff.

"What is it?" Shannon asked as she came to stand beside him, and he shifted his grip on the folder to make it easier for her to see. Shannon let out a groan of her own as her eyes scanned the page. The words vaguely described a mission to Jordan with the purpose of acquiring data on a group of suspected arms dealers, and, oddly enough, every name mentioned had been blacked out.

"That's strange," she remarked, and McGee glanced over at her. "Even if this was a black-ops mission, which it most definitely wasn't, they'd only classify the names of the agents involved, not the people being _investigated_. So why bother to conceal the identities of the arms dealers or terrorists or whatever?" she wondered aloud, and McGee merely shrugged.

"Isn't there supposed to be a name here?" he asked a moment later, and he pointed to an empty line at the top of the page. Shannon frowned as that increasingly familiar feeling of foreboding returned.

"That's where the supervising agent is supposed to sign off," she told him. "Hawthorne is required to get permission from his superiors before a mission can be put into effect, and they should've signed right there as a go-ahead."

"So maybe Hawthorne didn't tell anyone he was putting this mission together at all. Maybe he just made it look like nothing more than an arms dealing investigation so that no one would ever be interested enough to look into it," McGee reasoned, and Shannon nodded as he voiced her fears aloud.

"That's what it looks like," she agreed with a sigh, and she glanced up to see McGee's brow still furrowed in concentration.

"It's almost like he was trying to hide all of this from the CIA itself," he said, and he lowered his voice as if he was afraid they might be overheard in the spacious room. "He clearly wanted to make it seem like this was all about arms dealing since he sent you into the field with that idea, and that's what he wrote here. But none of this is right. Why would anyone go through the trouble of being this sneaky if they were working on a legitimate case?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted. She let McGee scan the file one last time before she took it from him and placed it inside of her jacket. McGee stared at her in shock.

"Aren't there forms for that sort of thing? You can't just go around stealing CIA files," he told her, and she gave a little shrug.

"If they're not going to be honest and straightforward about all of this, then neither am I. Hawthorne knows we'll be looking into all of this, and we shouldn't make it any easier for him to figure out what we know and what we don't. If he checked the log book and found out I'd taken the file, he'd know we're still looking into this. We should at least try to make him think we've given up for now," she reasoned.

Although he looked far from pleased, McGee didn't protest any further as they made their way out of the filing room and back into the hall.

"Ok, so there wasn't any mention of terrorism in the file. But there has to be a paper trail somewhere, right?" Shannon asked as they walked. "I mean he had to have kept track of all this stuff somehow. We just have to find out where he kept his records."

"Do you have access to the CIA database?" McGee asked, and Shannon looked over to see his green eyes bright with excitement.

"Uhm, yeah," she told him, and she forced herself not to get too distracted by his expression. He looked so energized, so filled with enthusiasm, that she momentarily considered holding back her answer just so she could prolong the time he spent looking at her as if she held the key to the world's most thrilling secrets.

"My computer at my desk upstairs does," she finally elaborated. She wondered how any one person could have such a fascinatingly expressive face as she watched McGee's eyes widen in surprise. "I do work here, you know," she reminded him with a smile. "Only part-time of course, but they were kind enough to give me a cubicle before they decided it would be more fun to risk my life without telling me," she said, and she took a calming breath once she realized her voice had transitioned from jovial to embittered as she'd talked. McGee offered her a sympathetic smile, and she tried not to blush too hard as they stepped into the elevator yet again.

"Third floor," she said to the lift. "Get ready to see what is by far the CIA's most exciting division," she told McGee with a joking smile, "otherwise known as the Office of Collection Strategies and Analysis".

* * *

**A/N: I hoped you guys liked it! Please let me know what you thought in the reviews! Or if you just want to rant about how I'm such a terrible person for not updating in so long, that's ok too!**


End file.
